


Strangers From Other Worlds

by Maksvell



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Stan Pines, Drunk Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), F/F, Grandpa Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Gravity Falls Weirdness, Latino Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), M/M, Mystery Shack, Post-Gravity Falls, Protective Rick, Rick Being an Asshole, Summer Vacation, Summer is an only child, Wendy is scared of her job
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-08-29 02:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16734951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maksvell/pseuds/Maksvell
Summary: Wendy is irritated by having to clean up the shack in preparation for Stan's booty call. Summer is upset that she has to follow Rick to make sure he doesn't do something stupid before his booty call.





	1. Stan's "Special Guest"

Wendy was sitting behind the checkout counter, feet resting on the top. They were situated between the register and a jar filled with the pickled ears of a “Jackalope”. Meanwhile, her face was buried in a magazine whose cover boasted about “The new Chic”, in bright, yellow jagged letters that almost obscured the picture of journalist S. Jerusalem. It was the first week of summer vacation. Her last true summer vacation before her senior year of high school. Stan had already arrived back in town and was barking orders. Frankly, it only made her feel as though he had never left. He was rushing around the shop, trying to make everything seem neat and orderly.

“Wendy, up and at'em. I want this place spotless. I have a very important guest arriving and I don’t want them arriving to a messy shop.”

“Didn’t you say that Mabel and Dipper weren’t due back until next week?” she said, barely looking up from an article that had the word “fuck” written at least thirty-two times per paragraph. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever read.

“I didn’t say anything about The Twins, Just...Gah! Get to work. It’s like herding a buncha cats,” He then began to pace around his eyes wide as Soos and Ford seemed to be rushing around. It was as though they feared the wraith of Stanley Pines. “Look, Wendy, I’m going to level with you,” Stan slowly approached the front counter. “We’re not going to have a lot of customer’s today. On account’a my hot date that I have scheduled for this afternoon. So, please...If you don’t want to endure a solid week of me half-heartedly giving tours in a pair of boxers and a rum-soaked bathrobe, you’ll help Soos clean up.”

Goddamn Stan was a total bastard when it came to vague and surreal threats. Wendy most definitely did not wish to endure a solid week of having to deal with Stan gross sobbing into the sleeve of his bathrobe while telling shit-brained tourists about the Rock That Looks Like a Face. She faced it once in the summer of 2013, when Stan came back from a failed date with a woman who turned out to be several crickets wearing a latex woman suit. Somehow, Stan ruined the date by bragging about his EXTENSIVE criminal before the crickets revealed their true identity. They dumped his sobbing ass onto the front porch of the shack. He laid there for hours, eventually falling asleep and waking up in a quilt made of old punk band t-shirts. To this day it is debated as to the identity of the person, being, or ominous secret society that left the quilt. The most popular theory, also the one theory that Wendy subscribes to is that the quilt was created in a joint venture with Soos’ abuelita and Robbie Valentino.

 

The portal opened up to a small clearing in the woods. Rick Sanchez and his only grandchild Summer Smith stepped out and into the clearing. Summer, quickly growing annoyed with the fact that she was unable to text her friends when they crossed through the portal and into a new universe. 

“Grandpa Rick, this is fucking bullshit,” said Summer as she slid a pair of wireless earbuds into her ears. 

“W-what are you complaining about, Suh-summer? I-I mean huh-how many girls your age do you think g-get to experience traversing bleedspace to get to other universes?”, he said before taking a swig from a small metal flask of moonshine that he kept hidden in his new and unusually crisp lab coat. 

“Oh gee grandpa, I dunno. Maybe girls whose grandfather isn’t a psychotic drunk who’s using a multiversal travel device to chase tail?” she said as she refused to look up from her cell phone. 

Rick gripped his chest and hunched over, going into a pained-sounding coughing fit before lurching back suddenly and shaking his fist at the heavens above. “Duh-damn you! thuh-that really wounded me. Suh-Summer-If I die from your shitty joke I want you to promise to be better than me.” 

Rick gave one last forced couch before falling back onto the ground. His hands and legs positioning in front of his torso, giving him the appearance of a dead rat or an opossum. Summer stood next to him and shot him a look of resentment. “Grandpa, get your ass up. You’re coat’s going to get dirty.”

He quickly rose to his feet and they continued their walk, coming to a stop at a rather large cabin in the middle of the woods, just off of a narrow, dirt road path. The two looked to one another and away before walking inside. Rick immediately walked over to a taller, burlier man in a ratty suit and a fez. The two men talked for a bit, laughing at little comments the other would make. Stan gripping Rick’s ass as he bit down on his own lower lip. Rick wanting to tear off Stan’s clothes with his teeth as he felt up Stan’s still noticeably firm biceps. The two briefly shared a kiss, blushing and giggling like a couple of teenagers. Before vanishing upstairs. Never to be heard from, spoken of, or seen again in hours. Wendy found that her efforts to clean were quickly rendered pointless Stan’s “special guest” barely glanced around the place before going upstairs to get into his pants.


	2. Strange Soda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer and Wendy finally talk.

The shack that Summer had stepped into was immaculate. It was just simply shelves piled with various odds and ends, all of which held a price and were more than likely forgeries created with hot glue and American ingenuity. Nearby were clothing racks. She decided as a lark to walk over and examine the rack of clothes. She ran her fingers along the shoulders of each of the shirts to determine the smoothness of the fabrics in question. She was very particular about what sorts of clothes that she wore and would prefer that they’d be comfortable. 

 

She plucked a nice solid green shirt out of random and examined the design, it was an image of a massive head covered in flames with the words, “I   EA T KIDS” written on a bit of white space above it, and below the image proper it read in blocky comic sans style font, “I Survived the Woodstick Festival 2012 and all I got was this groovy t-shirt.”

 

She smiled and heard a chuckle come from over her shoulder as she examined the shirt, “Nice shirt, eh?”

 

Summer allowed the shirt off fold in her hands as she turned to face the cashier girl with the long coppery hair. She wore a smile on her face as she locked eyes with her. She felt oddly enough too stunned to say anything, this was pretty new for her.

“You okay?” asked Wendy casually, hoping to not seem intrusive.

 

“Yes, ummm. Yeah, I’m fine. Super actually,” said Summer in response to being held by the gaze of the admittedly pretty girl who was once behind the back counter, hocking the wares belonging to Rick’s booty call.

  
  


“So, you’re with  _ him _ , right?”

 

“By  _ him,  _ you mean the wild-eyed guy that reeks of absinth and coffee?”

 

“Yep, exactly.”

 

Summer rolled her eyes at the mere thought of Rick, “Unfortunately yes, he’s my grandpa.”   
  


“Really?”

 

“Yeah, what? Are you gonna make something about it?” said Summer whose words had the venomous bite of bitter defensiveness.

 

Wendy’s smile retreated to the calm and cool smile that it was before the slyness kicked in, “Sorry, but I don’t see the resemblance. Except for your eyes.”

 

Summer bit her inner cheek when Wendy mentioned her eyes.

 

“Your pupils remind me of stars, is that odd?”

 

“I...no, no not at all. Sorry if I was a little...Brash.” Summer felt a slight burn in her cheeks as they became tinged pink with a blush.

 

“No, it was my fault. We should probably introduce ourselves if you want to keep talking,” She extended her hand, “I’m Wendy.”

 

Summer looked curiously at Wendy’s hand, she then nervously extended her own and grasped it, “I’m Summer.”

 

“Nice to meet you, Summer,” the slyness returned to Wendy’s grin. “If you’re interested, there’s a spot up on the roof that we can hang out at.”

 

“I’d-I’d like that very much.” 

 

“Then, please follow me.” 

 

Summer was then led by Wendy into the shack proper, away from the gift shop and it’s many knick knacks and trinkets, into a secret door that hid a ladder, and up onto a small platform on the roof, just near the sign that read, “Mystery Shack” in bright glittery red paint. From this vantage point, Summer had an excellent view of the sun that set over the woods. She was kind of awstruck as she beheld it. Wendy had pulled up a secondary beach chair for her to recline in, and recline she did. She sat back, beneath the shad of a pink and orange umbrella that someone (Wendy) had duct taped to the chair. Between the two parallel girls rested a cooler, Wendy opened it up and pulled out two cans, “Pitt Cola” read the cans in very bold orange text. 

 

“Want one?” asked Wendy as she offered the condensation covered soft drink to Summer in a somewhat sheepish manner.

 

Summer looked at the can in a somewhat cautious manner, she had never seen anything like it. Maybe it was something local to this universe. Then again, she was once dared by Rick to drink moonshine with a Silurian waitress on Antrozi IV, “Sure.”

 

She took the can from her fellow ginger and popped the tab. The sound of the can opening with the sharp sizzle sound of the cabonation was oddlys satisfying.

 

She took a sip and found that there was something rock hard inside her mouth, her eyes went wide and she spat the seed out, horrified. Wendy looked at her curiously as she eyed the peach’s pit that she held in her palm, she supposed that peaches must be smaller in this universe too.

 

“You alright?”

 

“Yeah. No. Why was that in the soda?” 

 

“It’s Pitt Cola, you’ve never tried it before?”

 

“No, no I haven’t.”

 

“It’s like their gimmick, y’know. All natural, real sugar no corn syrup, real peach flavor. And because they feel like they have the biggest balls in the world they put the pits of the peaches that they use in each can of soda that they put out.”

 

“Jesus,”

 

“Yeah, tell me about it. My friend Mabel knew a girl that cracked a tooth when she accidentaly bit into the pit,” Wendy smiled softly as though remembering something that she was incredibly fond of. “But, I’m kind of curious about how you don’t know what Pitt Cola is, it’s like the second most popular soda after Pepsi Clear.”

 

Summer’s head lifted up at the comment.

 

“Oh, Rick and I aren’t from here if you catch my drift.”

 

“What do you mean? Are you from another country or something?”

 

“Not exactly, we’re from another universe entirly.”

 

Wendy didn’t seem too shocked, she just made a noise that sounded like, “Huh.” It was as though she heard that new paper was put into a printer or that a new store had opened up somewhere. Like it was a mild change in her perception of everything.


End file.
